A New Lesson
by Marla Singer
Summary: NOW WITH MORE SLASHY GOODNESS! Tyler expands Jack's mind.
1. Default Chapter Title

A New Lesson   
  
Summary: Tyler expands Jack's mind. This is spun off the scene of the movie where Tyler's talking to Jack in the bath. Some of the original screen dialogue is included, please don't be mad.   
  
Rated: R   
  
Apologies: To Chuck Palahniuk, Jim Uhls, and all others involved in the creation of Fight Club and its characters. No harm intended.   
  
*****   
  
Tyler took a bath while I fixed myself up from the lastest fight. Our comfort level with each other rivaled that of any married couple's. We were talking about our dads. We seemed to come from similar backgrounds.   
  
"My dad never went to college. So it was real important that I go," Tyler said.   
  
"That sounds familiar."   
  
"So I graduate, I call him up long distance and say, 'Dad, now what?' He says, 'Get a job.'"   
  
I scrubbed the dried blood from underneath my fingernails. "Same here."   
  
"Now I'm 25. I make my yearly call again. I say, 'Dad, now what?' He says, 'I don't know. Get married.'"   
  
"I mean, I can't get married. I'm a 30 year old boy," I said.   
  
"We're a generation of men raised by women. I'm wondering if another woman is really the answer we need."   
  
I looked at Tyler at the end of this declaration. He had draped a facecloth over his eyes. I knew what he had meant, but this thought didn't click instantly like most of his others. I finished my patch up job in silence. As I turned to leave, I looked down at Tyler, meaning to say good night. Instead, I found my eyes focusing on the bits of bare flesh protruding from the dingy water.   
  
Even with his face covered, Tyler could feel my stare. "See anything you like?"   
  
I mumbled in the negative and went up to my room, red faced. Why I had froze and decided to peep at my naked friend confused me to no end. I lay down on my bed, or mattress, as it was, to think about it. I suppose it was the feeling of not being able to understand his last bit of philosophy. All his other ideas; Fight Club, the evils of consumerism I got. I was his disciple in these things. It just came as a surprise, after being in sync so long, that I disagreed with one of his theories.   
  
There was a knock at the door. Funny, because I didn't remember closing it.   
  
"Yeah?" I sat up too fast, and got hit with a wave of dizziness.   
  
Tyler came in, dressed in that cruddy robe of his, where he got from God knows where.   
"Keeping secrets are we? Your door was closed."   
  
I shook my head.   
  
Tyler leaned against the wall. "You're sure talkative tonight."   
  
"I'm just tired," I suggested half heartedly.   
  
"I don't think so."   
  
"No?"   
  
"No."   
  
I waited for further diagnosis. After a few minutes, it didn't look like Tyler had one.   
  
"Well, I'd like to get some sleep. If you're just going to stand there.."   
  
Tyler grinned and sat down next to me on the bed. "Better?"   
  
"No. What is this about?"   
  
"You tell me."   
  
Tyler wasn't the kind to talk around in circles. I began to miss his usual bluntness. "God! I don't know. We were talking, I got tired, and now I want to sleep. Okay? Leave me alone."   
  
The smug bastard only laughed and plopped his head down onto my pillow.   
  
"Fuck off already," I yelled at him as I stood up.   
  
Tyler propped himself up on an elbow. "I think you have to face the bigger issue here."   
  
My annoyance now at maximum level, I mumbled, "And what would that be?"  
  
Tyler only smiled. If he had sunglasses on, this would've been the moment where he'd have slid them over his eyes.   
  
I had had enough of this approach. Time to strike back with violence. I jumped on the bed, attacking Tyler with words and fists.   
  
Tyler didn't fight back. He took my pummeling with that damn smirk plastered on his face. I forced him off the bed, and he finally came to life, trying to block my attacks. We rolled around on the floor, struggling for superior position. My fist caught his mouth. I cried out as his tooth tore into the flesh of my knuckle. Tyler took advantage of my momentary lapse of concentration and pinned my arms to the ground. He sat over me triumphantly. The smile was still there, only now accented with a thin stream of blood.   
  
"As I was trying to tell you before," Tyler began. He brought his face close down to mine. The smell of sweat, blood, and the soap he used in the bath overwhelmed me. I waited for him to continue, but he didn't finish his thought.   
  
Instead, he put his lips on top of mine and began to kiss me. I tried to free myself from his grip, but he wouldn't let go of my arms. His tongue tried persistently to make its way into my mouth. I denied its entrance, but after the third or fourth attempt, I gave in. Tyler tasted of beer and unfiltered cigarettes. He clashed his tongue against mine, until I found the courage to join in.   
To my surprise, I found myself enjoying this new interaction between us. It felt like the first time we fought, a new rush of danger to explore. Tyler let go of my arms, confident that I wouldn't break away. He knew I was liking this. I let my hands slide down to his ratty robed hips.   
  
Suddenly, Tyler bolted up. "Right," he said, standing above me. "That's all I need to know."   
  
I watched in shock as he walked up to the doorway. If I was confused before, I was ten time more so now.   
  
He turned to face me. "Just remember to think about me when you're.." He gave the universal sign for jerking off. Then, he smiled brilliantly as he shut the door and left.   
  
I sighed and let my frustrated head drop to the floor. Life was never simple with Tyler Durden.   
  
The End.  



	2. Lesson Two

  
Summary: It's a sequel to another fic, but you don't have to read it, just know that Tyler kissed Jack, then left abruptly, and now Jack's a little off kilter.  
  
Apologies: to Chuck Palahniuk and Jim Uhls. I don't mean any harm   
*****   
  
  
What the hell was that? Tyler Durden - my friend, my best friend - just had his tongue in my mouth. And I'm pretty sure I liked it.   
  
  
I tell myself I liked it because it's physical contact, and it's been a while since I had any of that kind. The last time I had a real girlfriend was in college, and my sex life since then has been sporadic at best.   
  
  
So, I'm back at the beginning. What the hell was that? I went downstairs to find an answer.   
  
  
Tyler sat at the kitchen table smoking. He doesn't even look at me as I come in.   
  
  
"Hi, uh, Tyler. Why did you-- Why did we--" I couldn't say it.   
  
  
"Make out?" He smashed his cigarette into the ashtray. "Dunno. Why do you eat? Why do you do anything? If it feels good, you should do it."   
  
  
"So, you did like it then." Why am I so glad to hear this?   
  
  
"You ask too many questions." Tyler was out of his chair and in front of me.   
  
  
"I thought asking questions was the way we learned things." A smart ass comment to cover my nerves. I'm nervous because I know the best way to learn things is by doing. Tyler is waiting for me now. I'm frozen. He smiles so softly I can't help but relax.   
  
  
I'm aware that my hands are on his shoulders now and I'm pulling him closer. His breathing remains even as my fingers slip in between the folds of his robe. Tyler's skin is warm and alive and I'm leaning in for a taste. I see myself doing these things and enjoying them, but yet something's off.   
  
  
Tyler's heart beats calmly underneath my tongue. It worries me that his pulse isn't doing back flips. My mission, if I choose to accept it - get some sort of reaction from this man. I leave a trail of red marks along his shoulder. Nothing. As I tuck into his neck, I feel as if I should claim his flesh as my property. That way maybe I'd know what to do.   
  
  
I'm not conscious of his own touches. He may just be standing there. No, his hands are around my waist, but his mouth isn't doing anything but smiling. I sigh and I'm sorry because I don't want Tyler thinking I'm upset.   
  
  
Tyler notices. He tilts my face up towards his and gently says, "I wasn't sure you wanted this. We can put the kybosh on it at anytime."   
  
  
Caution from Mr. Durden? Alert the media. I ditch any inhibitions he thinks I have with a rough kiss to his lips.   
  
  
Now he knows and now he's wrapped around me. I'm losing clothing and control of my thoughts. The only thing that rings clear is that the heat of Tyler's body is melting mine. He's everywhere on my body at once. My mouth, my throat, down my chest and going lower.   
  
  
I hear it first. The rusty spring stretching of the screen door swinging open followed by the clacking of high heels. I stop and watch as Marla Singer waltzes into my kitchen. I turn, but Tyler's already gone.   
  
  
I come to the horrible realization that I'm half naked. My fingers fumble with the buttons on my shirt as my uninvited guest stands comes towards me.   
  
  
"What are you doing?" She asks in a Disney cartoon bunny rabbit of a voice.   
  
  
Logical explanation. Logical explanation. There are none. "Nothing. Get lost."   
  
  
Her eyes survey my condition. They take in the heavy breathing and the flushed skin. There's a sly grin as she stops at my crotch. "Oh my god. Isn't there a more sanitary place you could be doing that?"   
  
  
I'm not sure if it's possible, but I've just gone ten shades redder. I shift uncomfortably towards the wall to hide. "Go away, please."   
  
  
Marla doesn't go away. She comes closer. The perfume's she slathered on is stinging my eyes. "I can help you out, you know."   
  
  
My prostitute has a first name, it's M-A-R-L-A. "No. I do not need your help."  
  
  
I push past her sneaky smile and head upstairs. Tyler needs his teeth kicked in, leaving me in there with his crazy bitch of a girlfriend. Leaving me in a compromising position by myself. Letting that crazy bitch of a girlfriend think I'm a freak. I get to his bedroom door. It doesn't open. It's locked. I bang on it for a while, but there's no reply.   
  
  
That's when I see Marla's head bobbing up the stairs. "Who are you yelling at? Me?" She calls as she climbs.   
  
  
I'm in my room before she can try to molest me again. It takes six minutes of pounding and cursing at my door before Marla gives up. I'm not sure if she left, but I don't want to check, just in case she's waiting for me. What I am sure of, is that this thing in Tyler isn't fully resolved, and I won't be getting any answers tonight.   
  
  
End.   
  
  



	3. Lesson Three

I wake up without having known I had fallen asleep. How this is possible after all that went down last night, or rather, after who didn't go down last night, is beyond me.  
  
Scratch that. How I could've fallen asleep after all that has happened this night. The clock on the floor glows an eerie red 61:01. Somebody is upside down. I sit up, head swimming, and focus. I've only been out five minutes.   
  
The daze fades out and two things become aware to me. One, my hand is down my pants, and two, stones are smacking against my window. My guess - Tyler is responsible for both incidents.  
  
I pull myself up and go to the window. The grime that's built up over the years makes it hard to see. With a little spit and a little shirt sleeve, I wipe my way to a still night-time verdict.  
  
Squinting through the darkness, I make out that my window's assailant is most definitely Tyler. As he bends down for another handful of ammo, I have to push back the obscene thought that suddenly develops.  
  
The window is almost sealed shut. I'm amazed it hasn't been painted over. I force it open. The cracking of caked on dirt catches Tyler's attention.   
  
He stands up, and even though it's almost pitch black, I can see his smile. "Come on down! You're the next contestant on 'Who Wants To Fuck A Soap Salesman.'"  
  
No one's around, so there's no need to ssh him. Not that I would want to anyway. "Shouldn't you come up here?"  
  
"No can do. There's an ex girlfriend hibernating in front of your bedroom door."  
  
Ex. I'm responsible for Marla's ex status.  
  
Tyler points to the drainpipe to the left of my window. "Just shimmy down that thing, and we'll get out of here."  
  
It's only one story to the ground, but the decades old roofing accessory doesn't exactly scream out safety. I check its sturdiness with one hand, expecting the tin to crumble underneath my fingers, but through sheer perseverance it holds together.  
  
"Are you sure Marla's still there?" I ask.   
  
"I haven't seen her come out yet."   
  
I climb half out the window, and steady a foot against the pipe. I get as good as a hold as I'm going to get with the thing and slowly make my way down.   
  
My spotter shouts to me when I reach the halfway mark. "Take your time sweet cheeks."  
  
I tell him to shut up, but I'm glad I'm up in the dark so he can't see me enjoying his comment. My concentration wavers that moment, and I lose my hold. I stumble and fall the remaining two feet.  
  
I clumsily land in Tyler's arms. He coulda been an outfielder.   
  
"Nice catch." I say.  
  
"Like you didn't fall on purpose." He deposits me onto the grass with a swift pat on the ass. "Enough of the foreplay, come on, vamanos." He makes a beeline for the sidewalk leaving me with the impression that he knows where he's going.  
  
I swallow the bit of nervousness that creeps up into my throat. This is it. No more interruptions. It's fluid swapping time. With another man. Another new experience. Unconventional, yes, and Tyler hasn't steered me wrong yet. Still...   
  
"Tyler. Wait a second." I need an explanation, or at least an excuse. "Does this mean, that we're - This doesn't mean I'm gay, does it?"  
  
Tyler stops and stares. "If you weren't just trying to get into my pants a few minutes ago, I would swear that sounded homophobic." He slaps me on the shoulder. "I thought you were through with the labels anyway. You chucked the Calvin Kleins, the Starbucks, and the Pradas. Why start with the gay, straight shit now."  
  
No sale. "I don't understand. How are name brands and what sex you're attracted to similar to each other?"   
  
"People who are proud of their sexual preference and market themselves accordingly are shallow. Their close-mindness in thinking being straight or being gay or whatever - makes them special is just as pointless as believing wearing designer labels makes you superior to those who shop at K-Mart."  
  
"So if I think myself as straight, I'm shallow? That's 90% of the population! You can't just say all those people are mindless idiots."  
  
"Not if you think of yourself as straight. You can think yourself the king of the fucking North America, as long as you keep it to yourself I don't care about it. Once you start promoting yourself as one thing, you got stick with it.  
  
"So, you think everyone should be bisexual."  
  
"Another label, man. If you're attracted to someone you should just go for it. Life is too short. You dig me, I dig you. Good enough, let's go." He continues down the walk.   
  
There is no choice but to follow. "Where are we going?"  
  
"To Marla's. She'll be camped out at our place for at least another few hours."  
  
"A few hours?" I say by his side.   
  
"Just another perk of the Tyler Durden program." He turns and flashes me one of his trademark smiles. "I think you'll find it's worth the trip."  
  
End.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
